Redemption 100
by Snipermander
Summary: Taking place just hours after his Beauty and the Beast concert, The Magic Man returns to the world of the living, possessed by the very Beast itself. Now, the rockgod must face his other inner demons to save his own soul... UNDER HEAVY REVISION
1. Prologue

Prologue

The thick night air was without silence that night in the slightly populated area of Central Ohmtown; the claps of thunder from an approaching thunderstorm as well as the pulsating sounds of a powerful musical machine upon a flying, bat-winged saucer cut the air like a knife through flesh. No one within the enormously populated arena of the Ohmtown Power Plant truly feared the saucer though, nor did they fear the strange, ominous figure which stood upon it. The figure was a person they all knew very well…

It was a male creature, very tall and thin, and despite being of older age, it was easy to tell the man had toned muscles upon his long arms and upper chest area. Upon closer inspection, it would also seem he were the melding of a cat and a hairless rat, with front-facing eyes (hidden by a pair of fancy sunglasses), a small, pointed nose, pinkish-pale skin, and wide pointed ears which looked like impious horns at the sides of his head. And every once in a while, the ferocious side of the feline would show in the man whenever he spoke or sang, revealing the four long, white fangs set within a powerful jaw.

But perhaps the most striking characteristic of this ominous person was not the crazy, Glam rock fashion outfit he wore or the fact that he was completely bald, but it was his prominent, glossy lips. No other anthro-animal life form in that theater, no matter what gender or amount of plastic surgeries, could ever achieve the full, attractiveness of those famous lips. So much were this man's lips the attraction of a million female fans as well as the bane of the other males whose women had left them.

But as incredibly handsome as they were, these lips… which for so many years spoke courteously and sang so beautifully… were now only spewing out the vile words of hate, death, wrath, and bloody vengeance…

As the crowds upon crowds cheered and gathered noise for the man standing upon the hovering, bat-like stage, the star of the show brought his large hands to the color-lighted touch pads of the large musical machine in front of him. A he placed his gloved palm to one touch pad, an almost eerie sounding keyboard note would sound off into the night atmosphere; each colored touch pad had its own tone, sound and frequency. And together with his incredible talent for mending sounds together, the mysterious man in the wild neon-orange outfit began to play the notes to his liking, and a song came into form.

The song was called "The Invocation Song".

Along with the long sounds of an invisible keyboard, the machine could also produce the hard taps of a drum set and the ever popular guitar strums, all of which the musician almost effortlessly brought together in his song. The "Invocation Song" itself was at first very creepy sounding, but that was how the crowds loved it, and once you became hooked onto the steady beat of the song, it was hard not to like it.

Below and a few yards away from the mysterious musician and his magical hovering bat stage was a great metal structure of a dragon's gaping, tooth-filled mouth. Within the dragon's mouth was a powerful circuit board with metal restraining attachments… and trapped within those torturous devices was a rather beautiful mouse woman by the name of Angel…

As the crowds continued to watch the show, very entertained indeed, and the Glam-clan musician continued to play the strange song, the circuit board behind the woman (dressed in a very skimpy cloth outfit) began to hum with raw electrical power. Above the whole scene, the large-lipped male creature wearing the fancy sunglasses observed the happening below, mostly the girl, and a sneer came upon his very slightly wrinkled face; he then looked to his control panel of his machine, and gently glided his large hand across the touch pads, causing them all to glow. Then he brought his gloved hand to a separate control section and squeezed his long, bony fingers together, as if he were holding an invisible item.

Down below, the lights upon the restraining collar around the girl's neck glowed brightly, and she suddenly burst forth into a form of resonation that was hard to describe:

"_Say just why you offer (us) 3D-D,  
(What was) tetra flawlessly,  
Active matrix (tireless) (all) become,_

_Ohohoooooooooooooo!"_

What did these strange lyrics mean? Was the audience supposed to sing along? Because for all they knew, this was a brand new song by their favorite rock star, one which they never heard before until now, and one they automatically loved!

They cheered! Some were practically jumping out of their seats, but they just didn't give their own rodent rears weather people were going crazy out of their wits over one unheard song. This kind of reaction was nothing compared to what insanity normally went down at a Mok Concert…

_Yes… everything is going according to my plan. Soon, these ungrateful vermin who dare call themselves my "fans" shall know __**true fear**__…_

Mok smiled down at the happenings before him: the lights, the sounds, the echoes; the crazy audience, the trapped and helpless Angel successfully singing the very words of the Summoning. The words which Mok himself had his troubles with deciphering once his supercomputer managed to track them down. Though Mok had known these lyrical demonic chants for a long time:

The one whom his fans called "The Magic Man", Mok had always had a well hidden but strong interest in the Satanic cult (if you could call it that). Mok's collection of the occult paraphernalia started when he was around 17; it mostly came from listening to the songs of his favorite rock groups as a young boy way back in the day. Back then it was much more difficult to get away with a hobby like that, but luckily for the 48-year-old Mok, prudence and conservativeness had all quickly disappeared after the Great Hurricane Aras, which hit Ohmtown and the surrounding areas of April '67.

Although everything he could dig up on his own was only meant for study in his childhood, it soon grew into a dangerous obsession as Mok got older; he began to test the limits of the occult's "magic" and his own "magic" as he saw it, even going as far as to pilot a powerful piece of aircraft at the tender age of 18 and nearly getting himself killed. For a while, he was too shaken up to tamper with that Satanic nonsense again, all the while his popularity and powers over the public grew and grew with each passing day, month, and even year.

Then it happened again. His care-free and charming mind was once again under the influence of the dangerous Dark paraphernalia; Mok began to incorporate the Devil more and more into his songs and performances, the many magical tricks he perform becoming all the more dangerous, and it continued to stretch out over the many years of his fame. But the question is, why now? Why was The Great Musical Icon of The World Mok back to the same irrational beliefs/actions/thinking that nearly got himself killed so many years ago?

For Mok, the answer was simple:

_These "fans" as they call themselves… look at them all, the pigs…they have come only to make a ridicule of my name, to gaze up at my wonder only to look aback and jeer at my age and loss of youthful glow…_

_But not anymore…this plan (MY PLAN!) shall make them pay… they will scorn the day they deserted me! I am Mok! And I shall be king..._

Still busily working the musical machine in front of him, Mok gazed out into the glowing red, laser-beam star which had risen from the stage floor and out through the glass roof of the Ohmtown Power Plant. The storm outside was now raging more then ever, and Mok had a hunch that it had nothing to do with the polluted atmosphere…

There was a terrible rumble and the sound of glass breaking all 'round the arena… out of the bright light of the towering laser star there shot up the pulsating, fiery entities of skulls and flames; hundreds, maybe even _thousands_ of them, all gathering nearly forty feet into the air, and meshing together to form a giant demonic form. It was a creature so horrific and unheard of before, that it could only be described by one person with one word: evil.

"…I don't know what it is, Stretch… but whatever it is… its _evil_."

All the jittery rat guy and plump mole man could do was watch helplessly as the "evil thing" began a horrific rampage among the thousands of trapped Mok fans still in the stands…

Mok himself, the star of this whole event, looked upon the thing which he had always considered "his" beast: the way the monster's body was covered from its spiked head to its demon tail with pulsating fire red veins, almost like a giant brain, and the creature's slimy texture and the raging muscles of its chest and arms, which ended in bony, hooked claws which it swung in the air in a very Godzilla-like fashion.

Mok removed his fancy sunglasses and took a moment to stare at this, _his _great hell-born creation, with all the admiration you could imagine. Soon, terrible, evil thoughts began to circulate inside his bald head: all the things he could now accomplish with this Beast under his wing: all the disrespectful, deserting fans he could now _slaughter!_

_Yes…_Mok thought devilishly to himself as a crazy smile came upon his face…_after all the months I spent on this project, searching for the perfect voice… I have finally done it! Yes! My beast! My VENGANCE!_

And finally, these wicked, heartless thoughts flowed down and out of his now less-sane brain and though his mouth like a pipe full of Nuke York sewage. Mok the Magic Man stood from his seat, triumphantly stretched out his long arms and wrenching the air with his feline-claws; he threw back his head and shouted sanctimoniously,

"_**MY VENGANCE! DESTROY THEM ALL! HA HA HA HA HA!"**_

And that is just what the Beast proceeded to do…

Toad frantically scrambled to make his way down from his operation's tower as fast as his roller skates could take him. The huge, burly dog-man had just witnessed the one thing that he never wanted to see in his whole life: his youngest sibling, his brother Zip, had just been assaulted by Mok's Beast.

Toad came upon the scene and knelt down upon the cold, metal stage where his poor little brother lay beaten. Toad took Zip into his huge arms and held his head in his large hand.

"Aw, _Zip!_" He said, trying to hold back the tears that had already begun to form in his eyes. _"Whatdidja do it for?"_

The young, child-like Zip opened his eyes and spoke, his words labored and his eyes

"(Cough) …I did it… for Uncle Mikey… (cough)… and for us…"

When he had managed to finish this sentence, Zip placed his hand gently to his big brother's cheek and looked into him with his soft eyes. That was when Toad finally gave up his fight with his tears; he could feel the tears on his right side siding down the crevice of the deep, white scar under his right eye.

Zip spoke: "(Cough)… Toad (sob)… we ain't evil… are we?"

Toad simply didn't know how to answer that question. He often pondered it himself in the past, as his association with The Magic Man often forced him to do some very dirty deeds, most of which he'd be deeply ashamed to tell his own mother about. Toad sniffled and tried to resume his position as responsible oldest brother, despite his absence of a proper answer:

"Don't talk now, Zip…" Toad tried to calm his little brother down by cradling him.

Suddenly, Zip went limp.

"Zip?"

Nothing.

"ZIP! TALK TO ME!"

But no sound came from the one-eared pup, not a sound. Toad felt his whole world fall apart around him, and he buried his head in Zip's chest, weeping hard but silently. Toad wanted it all to end; he wanted all of this to be just a bad dream… a dream which he would be waking up from soon to yet another miserable day he'd have to spend waiting on hand and foot to the spoiled, arrogant rock star, Mok…

And speaking of Mok, did he care about what happened? Did he even care to shed a single tear for what happened to Toad's innocent little brother? Did he even bother to take notice of this sudden tragedy?

Hell no. Why, the Great "Magic Man" himself was too busy laughing his bald head off at all the blood being shed down below him. Laughing like a maniacal mad scientist whose experiment has been purposely turned loose upon an unsuspecting public…

The fury that would come to boil up deep inside Toad as a result of his pain and suffering was frightening and indescribable…

Observing all the chaos and carnage that was happening down below him from his high perch upon his hovering bat-wing stage, Mok the superior rocker had taken a rather precarious seat at the edge of the stage; his long, slender legs were crossed casually with the white leather of his high-heel go-go boots shining with each flash of lightning in the windows. Every so often, Mok would rub his chin with his long fingers as he focused on one or two individual fans, slight concern growing on him as it looked as though they might have found a chance to escape, only to be swallowed whole or trampled by the Beast; as hundreds of more dog, cat, and rat people would come to meet this same terrible fate, Mok's great lips would stretch into a truly wicked smile and his black heart would be filled with impish glee.

_Yes… that's it…scream, scream as loud as you can…for it tickles Mok to his bone to hear your pain and suffering… _Mok would think to himself with a deep chuckle.

In fact, he was enjoying himself so much that the rock star barely gave any notice to the girl, Angel, who was now free from her entrapment upon the circuit board, thanks to the surprise entrance of Omar. It was only when the sharp-eyed Mok noticed his Demon-Beast becoming distracted from demolishing a concession stand, and turned its huge, throbbing head around to look at something. What was it looking at?

Mok leaned slightly over to look beneath his hovering stage: there stood Angel, now with torn clothes and collar-less, the blonde mouse woman had her mouth open, but Mok could not make out a single word of it over all the commotion around him. Then he heard the echoes…

"_Oh what will the signal be…_

_For your eyes to see me?"_

Mok frowned for a moment, scratching his chin as he eyed Angle curiously until it hit him: _Ahhh! I see… (Deep giggle) She is actually trying to send the beast back! My, such a clever girl…_

Mok sat back in his seat and tried to contain his amusement; the Beast itself had now fully approached Angel, easily dwarfing her by about one-hundred-and-fifty feet. For a moment, the terrible Beast just stood there, staring at Angel with surprisingly innocent curiosity, even tilting its giant head like a puppy would; but this moment of calm was short lived as the creature's neon-blue eyes began to glow brightly and it emitted a deep growl. From out its body, the Beast produced an array of new, separate heads, each with their own glowing blue eyes, and mouths set with long fangs.

Angel sang the next verse to her song, showing no fear even as the snapping, threatening mouths inched closer to her barely covered soft body…

In the next two minutes, Mok would find himself looking out into the open arena with a look of pure disbelief and terror in his long-lashed eyes: the Beast was going away! It shrank into its original form of swirling fiery entities and recoiling back into the glowing hellhole which it had once sprung from. Mok found himself beginning to shake with anger and fear, for the very thing that would set him for the rest of his life and make him infinity in the universe was now leaving him!

"No, _no, NO!" _Mok shouted out loud as he quickly jumped back into his position at his magical music machine and began hitting all the buttons to his Invocation Song, but nothing seemed to be working: the Beast's red flames had begun to die off in the pit.

"_They can't stop you!" _Mok shouted down at the Beast as it continued to dematerialize and Mok continued to slam his large palms into the lighted pillars around him._ "Destroy… them…ALL!"_

But when the Magic Man looked back down over the ledge, he could no longer see the red glowing entities of the Beast, for it had now completely vanished into the Dimension's vortex, which was now_ itself _shrinking! Mok's mind was racing now as he resorted to blindly slamming his fists into the pillars, causing many of them to break.

Instead of ordering, Mok was now left to outright begging, _"Don't go! Please…don't… GO!"_

Eventually though, the rage and frustration inside Mok Swagger became too much, and he began to sputter a series of incoherent rants whist pounding his large fists into his machine, while the audience continued to run around in circles and lightning continued to flash outside the Power Plant glass. When the last flash of lightning had dissipated, Mok suddenly noticed a large, dark shadow was now covering him in an ominous fashion. Having also sensed a growl, Mok turned around… and is heart nearly skipped a beat.

There was Toad. The massive bulldog stood looming above his "Boss" with his dull teeth bared and a look of blind murder in his small eyes. The huge man came even closer, trapping the skinny Mok against his broken machine; Mok's eyes were wide with fight and he was shaking. Toad finally spoke as he reached his thick, burly arms out to grapple his former Boss,

"_My brother's DEAD."_

Feeling the sheer power of Toad's huge hands grappling him, Mok found himself bursting into tears, black tears colored by his mascara and shed for his pure panic. But, even in tears and physically at the mercy of his henchman, Mok's inflated pride still shone through:

"_YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!"_

Mok's thin body was easily lifted high over Toad's head; the cold air whipped around the musician's skimpy dressed body and his heart was beating hard. As the thunder rolled, Mok's mind became erased of all common sense; the only thing that mattered now was that they knew his name…

"_I AM MOK!"_

Toad threw him over the edge.

Mok's following scream was loud and piercing, sounding like the combined screeches of a cat and a rat. The butterflies in his stomach spread wildly to the rest of is body as Mok plummeted down the thirty+ feet, his mind spinning as his body tumbled. He could still _feel_ the thousands of eyes watching him in the fall…

_Scratch!_

Mok had just managed to catch the wall of the dimension with his claws, thanks to his cat ancestry; he exerted a lot of his strength just to reach his hand upon the ledge in a hopeless attempt to pull himself out. It just couldn't be: how could it end for him like this? He was The Magic Man! He should be the one with all the control of the universe! His mind spoke out loud as he screamed out,

"_The magic of One Voice…"_

Mok gripped the edge so hard trying to pull himself out that he felt his long bony fingers were going to break, but he was growing weak…

"…_One Heart…"_

With the tears still running from his eyes, Mok felt the panic rush over him as he felt the Portal _pulling_ him in…

"…_One Song!"_

He could not believe it. How could it be true? How could it happen like this? Through his tears, Mok looked up at the shrinking hole above him… and the world of existence it carried away with it… The greatest icon in music history was being sucked right out of the only world that ever gave him that title… the one world he tried to make his own, despite what its done for him… but how could it end this way? How could his supercomputer have given him false information? And how in hell were those infernal brats able to send it back?! No ONE could send it back!

"_But…there…is…no…ONE!"_

Mok's voice echoed into infinity as he finally slipped and went into a freefall once again, the hole to his world closed up above him, and total darkness incased him as the rockgod's body went cold…

----

Next segment: Chapter 1: The Demonsion


	2. The Demonsion, Part 1

Chapter 1:

The Demonsion (Part One)

----

Darkness still prevailed within The Magic Man's vision; it had been this way for what seemed an eternity throughout the great fall, and now without light, it was impossible to tell if it was day or night… The feeling of pain and soreness returned to his body, robbing Mok Swagger of all the possibility that he might be dead. His body was protesting against a feeling of itchiness being pressed upon his entire left side, as well as the chills of a bitter wind passing over him.

The last thing to return to him was his vision; the pitch black color under his eyelids had now faded to a mellow orange, which is what you normally wake up to in the mornings if facing an open window. For a moment, Mok was afraid to open his eyes, afraid of what he would find considering that his memory was still in full tact. But as his pointed, cat-like ears returned to their proper positions at the sides of his head, Mok's curiosity eventually became too much when strange unearthly noises reached them from all around him. He opened his eyes.

The first thing that met his brain receptors was three red-colored blades of what Mok guessed was grass; ever so slowly, Mok lifted his head an inch off the strange ground he was lying upon to fully observe where exactly he was. Though, the word "exactly" had become more of an overstated word once Mok got a good view of his surroundings:

The legendary rocker found himself lying in a field, an _endless _field of dead-looking orange-red "grass"; the valley was hilly, rolling along like the waves of a suddenly petrified sea of some sort.

Mok's tall, lanky body was in a crumpled heap, with his long arms and very long legs lying out like a wooden dummy's would. He had quite a few scratches, scuffs, and bruises on his body, and his [slightly effeminate] neon orange Glam outfit had small tears in some places. Mok finally sat himself up in a sitting position, sore, and briefly looked over his hands: the white glove on his left hand was shredded around the fingers and bits of it were handing off from where it had been torn due to Mok trying to hold on to the lip of the Vortex. He looked down ay his tight, high-heel go-go boots but found they were still in tact.

_Hmph…good. _He thought to himself, _At least I won't have to purchase a new pair of those…_

Mok looked up and squinted his eyes; he was just able to make out what looked like a mountain range far off in the distance. Mok heard a rumble and turned his head sideways to stare up into the sky, which was a deep maroon in the surrounding areas, but thirty feet right above him was what looked like a huge _black hole_.

_What the…dear God! _

A sudden jolt of fear singed him as The Magic Man stumbled to his feet, his "precious" high-heel boots not helping. He trotted backwards a few feet until he was out from under the wide black hole and stood away from it, all the while staring up at it with wide eyes. It didn't take long for Mok to study the empty blackness to decide he must have fallen from it.

Then Mok remembered something.

He reached into a small pocket inside his performance outfit and pulled out a ring that looked like it had a computer chip attached: it was the _same_ ring his supercomputer designed for him to seek out the special voice needed to raise the Beast. Along with that, Mok was also able to communicate with his computer thought this, which is how he knew where to look when he was on his "world tour/talent search". Working the tips of his claws to turn a tiny knob at the side, a light began to blink and there was the sound of fuzz.

Then a cool feminine voice came through: _"Greetings. Mok."_

"Computer! Where am I?" Mok ordered sternly. "Tell me where I am located."

"_Locator activated. Searching now."_

There came very mystical computer sounds from the little ring on Mok's long finger, and a bright light gave a flash as the computer's reading worked. Mok found himself frowning into the small object while tapping the tip of his boot upon the grassy ground in impatience. All the while, Mok's wide, pointed ears twitched every so often to the little noises around him; he was not in a familiar place, and didn't trust his surroundings.

However, Mok figured he had just been transported by the Vortex to another part of the States, so the musician figured he could just have his Airship come by and pick him up, albeit that would take some time.

There was a beep and the computer's voice spoke: _"Locating complete, Mok. Location identified."_

"Well? Where the hell am I?" Mok's scratchy voice said. "And how soon can you send my Airship to pick me up?"

There was a small moment of silence before the computer answered: _"Airship transport impossible. Location unreachable." _

"_What?!"_ Mok barked, his ring hand now in a fist. "What do you _mean_ "location unreachable"?! It can't be _that_ difficult for you to find me in the middle of the States!"

"_The Locator indicates you are not in the United States."_

Mok froze. "…I'm… not in the country?" He quickly took off the ring and held it within both hands, his long fingers grasping the object like spider legs. Mok's ears perked forward to listen intently to the computer's voice:

"_Location: not in the village of Ohmtown."_

"_Location: not in the state of Nuke York."_

"_Location: not in the country of America."_

"_Location: not in the Western Hemisphere."_

With each passing word of his supercomputer, Mok could feel himself falling apart: his heart began to race, his eyes grew wider and wider, and he began to sweat as his mind caved.

"_Location: not on any known continent."_

"_Location: not on any known island."_

"_Location: not on this planet."_

Mok dropped to his knees.

"_Location: the other Dimension."_

Mok lost it: "No… _no…NO…__**NO! **__**You're wrong!**_ _This can't be!_ How could I be in the other Dimension and still be _living?!"_

The little ring spoke: _"System unable to decipher…" _

"_Well, what do I __**do?!" **_Mok yelled into the ring.

"_System unable to decipher…"_

With a screech, Mok suddenly wrenched the ring off his finger and violently threw it into the ground; he began screaming terrible profanities as he beat the grassy floor with his fists.

"_TELL. ME. WHAT. TO. DO! You infernal machine! Don't give me your excuses! I want answers and I want them NOW! You hear me?! ANSWER ME!"_

But despite his screaming and threats, the computer's cool voice recited the same answer: _"System unable to decipher."_

By now, Mok's energy was still low from the traumatic time he had back at the Ohmtown Power Plant stadium, and soon he became too tired to beat the ground any long; the Magic Man fell over on his side like a wounded animal and began to cry. Now normally, Mok would have had much better control over himself in times of stress (save his slight verbal abuse against his servants), but because the older creature was still reeling from the long fall through the dimensional hole, and because there was no other souls around, Mok allowed his black tears to run freely over the curvature of his face and onto the dry, prickly grass under him.

"(Sob, sob) ...Gawddammit, computer... Please…_please…_ help me (sob)." Mok's large lips quivered as he spoke to the little ring lying next to his head. "… I don't know what to do. I don't know where to go… please, _just tell me where I can find an exit_ (Sob)."

There was a moment of silence (save the chilly winds that rode gently across the red valley) until there was a "bleep, bleep" sound, and the supercomputer spoke:

"_Other exit located. Go East."_

Mok's pointed cat ears pricked up and he opened his eyes; he immediately grabbed the ring and sat up, eagerly speaking into it: "East, you say? But I do not know which way _is _East! Every direction looks just like the last." He said as he turned his bald head to look around himself shortly before staring back down in his hands.

"_I have now activated the Compass of my systems, Mok. Hold the ring out in front of you and it will guide you." _The robotic voice spoke.

And so Mok got up with a grunt and placed the ring back on his bony middle finger. He held it out in front of himself and turned himself around in a gradual circle; he continued to do this until he could feel the ring vibrating on his finger when he came to face in a certain direction.

"East." Mok said out loud to himself with little emotion, just a stern glare as he looked out across the plains and rolling hills until his excellent eyesight met with the long distant mesh of deep twisted foliage: a jungle.

And so with a deep breath and then a sigh, the amazing rock star Mok Swagger began walking, keeping his arm out in front of him to allow the ring (and his supercomputer back on his ship) to do their navigational work. He had no idea what he would find in his pathway to home, nor did he know how long it would take him; but whatever was there was to overcome, Mok knew he among all others could do it, he could accomplish anything that anyone put in front of him.

He is The Magic Man, after all.

----

The screeching of large tires could scarcely be heard every so often on the long, cracked runways outside the very tall, thick windows of a quiet terminal lounge area. Montana International Airport was normally busy this time of night; it was Saturday at 9:00, Eastern Pacific Time, and the terminals were a buzz with all kinds of business folks and tired vacationers all making their ways around to their rightful flights or outside to waiting taxis (and there weren't very many of those to the outskirts of the small town of Ohmtown, one might add).

But a few yards away in a lounge area of the airport, there was a quaint coffee bar to the front and across from that was a roomy, lit area with a few comfy seats with magazines on the tables and TV sets hung upon the iron bars of the windows. The TV's were on low frequency and one of them wasn't even getting reception, but that kind of drawback was common in this mostly poor community. Outside the tall wide windows was mostly nothing but beautiful night sky (the pollution here was not so bad) save for the forms of large aircraft coming upon the runways full of passengers.

All of the chairs were empty except for one which was closest to the windows; in this chair sat a woman of very small stature: she looked to be around four feet five inches tall, also quite thin with slightly wrinkled bluish-green skin. The woman wore over herself a black hooded sweater, a pair of dark blue jeans and a pair of girl's sneakers. Her face was the only thing that seemed out of place: it had a clear complexion with bright blond hair and thin eyebrows, which rose slightly every so often whenever she found something interesting in the magazine she was casually reading.

After a few minutes of calm silence (save the coffee's bar TV which was playing college football to three patrons), the woman's pointed ears picked up on the approach of someone coming around the corner of the bar to where she sat. But rather then turning her head, she simply waited to see if it was the person she was waiting for; sure enough, a shadow was cast over her from behind, and so with her eyes still to her reading, the small woman spoke.

"I'm guessing the flight must have been a tad behind, Monica. I thought you'd be back sooner."

The other person named Monica spoke with a shrug, "Yeah, and the electrical storms we've been getting in Nuke York haven't helped…"

Then Monica came casually over to the first woman's side, finishing her sentence, "…but it beats taking those mutant-infested trains."

The little woman in the chair finally looked up from her magazine to the one she had been waiting for: at first glance, it was not hard to tell that Monica was a person of rat decent; her large, round ears and pointed snout were the giveaways. The short fur that covered her was dyed a soft lavender color like most of the young folks those days had it, while her hair was jet black and spiked out at the front. She wore on her long, baggy military pants and a gray shirt with Mok's Satanic goat-head logo on the front. Apart from her curvature as a female rodent, Monica was also rather strong-looking for one as well, with signs of muscle build in her arms and torso as well, though not to such an extent where it would be noticed from even a short distance.

Monica spoke, her rodent buck teeth showing through slightly as she did, "Say Gina, why did you pick _that _mask to wear? It doesn't match your skin color at all!"

The little woman stood from her chair and abandoned her reading material as she replied, "Yes, this mask may not match my natural skin coloring very much, but that is why I am wearing this heavy clothing, not just because this airport is freezing. Which reminds me: let's get the hell out of here before those noisy tourists with their brats take up all the taxis in this town."

And so, Monica followed Gina out of the quiet lounge area and through the rather shabby airport, keeping a stern grip on her luggage. When they eventually made it outside, they were lucky enough to squeeze into an old, rusty taxi which the other crowds seemed to ignore (perhaps for good reason out of fear that it might break down). Monica's combat boot bottoms squeaked on the metal of the cab as she slid in with Gina, who gave the dog-man at the driver's seat money to get them into town. As the taxi pulled away from the large, loud airport, Gina turned to Monica and spoke,

"Well, I'm guessing your trip to visit your sister went well, tuts'?"

"Ah, yes, very well." Monica said with a grin. "My sister had the nerve to ask if I was still with 'my rock star boyfriend'. Ha! [She's jealous]. But of course I am, and I have to say, I have missed him a ton."

"Yes, he has missed you too, very much in fact." said Gina.

"Its funny, though," Monica said as she gazed out the cab window into the night sky, "Mok didn't seem to miss me_ that _much when I left…" The rat-woman's smile faded away.

"Really? How?"

"Well, normally by time I leave and get halfway to wherever it is I'm going, Mok would call me at least _ten_ _times_ throughout the whole trip. And most of my trips are only short flights away."

Gina looked away and thought about this. "You know, Mok _has_ been keeping to himself quite a lot recently… actually, he _did_ mention something about a little 'seclusion time' he was going into, but I never thought Mok would actually go through with it."

"Really?!" Monica laughed as she folded her arms behind her head for a makeshift pillow. "Mok? In _seclusion_? Ha! Mok's never liked being away from his adoring fans! Hell, he doesn't even like to be alone! You know Mok: he just _has_ to be the center of attention, all the time!"

The two women laughed at this.

Gina noticed Monica's smile fading again, and so she offered up a good word: "Ah well… look, tuts'," (Monica looked jadedly over to her.) "I may not be able to tell why Mok's been locking himself up the way he has, but there is one thing I _can_ tell you is this: Mok loves ya', girl. He's always loved you very much, just like he loves and cares for all his 'little ladies'. And if there is anything in the world he would kill himself over (besides his music) is you and the others."

Monica sighed. "Yeah… I know. But it just seems like he's lost track of his life, ya' know? I mean, all the 'papers in Ohmtown report Mok's never even left his mansion in, what, six months? I'm just afraid of what I'll find when I get to his place…"

Gina opened her mouth to object, but only found herself closing it as she began to imagine all the terrible things that _could_ and _have_ befallen reclusive celebrities in the past: drug self-poisoning, accidents, depression, and suicide just being a few. It terrified her just as much as it did Monica, that Ohmtown's great mascot and the world's icon could very possibly fall into that breakdown.

Eventually, at the sight of Monica's increasingly saddened expression, Gina threw her own worries aside and spoke,

"Listen, Monica. Mok is a passionate man; he absolutely loves what he does for a living, he loves his art. It is his life, and sometimes when some artists love something that's important to them too much, they tend to forget about the _other _important things in their lives as well, such as loved ones. And they can even forget about the welfare of themselves.

Gina paused for a moment to look up at Monica; the strong rat woman looked less upset and more thoughtful now, which was what Gina was hoping for, so she continued:

"Now, Mok is like this (I admit)… but not for all the wrong purposes: an important part of it is Mok just doesn't want to be _forgotten_. I imagine he'd developed that fear due to his tramp-mother abandoning him as a kitten-pup. Another thing is that Mok has a lot to live up to: he is 'The Magic Man' after all, and 'the greatest icon in music history', and you don't just get handed those titles by doing little, you know…"

Monica nodded in agreement as she kept her eyes out the window of the taxi cab.

"Well, the list goes on, but the main thing here is Mok is a passionate man, and he cares deeply for the things he loves. Sure, he may slip up once in a while and forget to give time to another object of his love… like you…"

Gina placed a wizened but caring hand over Monica's as she finished,

"…But I'm sure that once Mok has realized what he's been neglecting, he'll jump at the first chance to make things right… just like he would for his music."

Gina waited slightly nervously for Monica to respond, still with her hand upon hers, and eventually Monica did look back down, only this time with a satisfied smile.

"Yeah. I guess your right; Mok always told us he'd never forget his 'little darlings'!"

Both ladies enjoyed a hardy chuckle.

"By the way, tuts', I hope you and your sis' haven't been throwing Mok's name around the NY while you were away. I'm sure Mok has had to tell you of all the calls he's received from angry Nuke York Police officers about mobs of his fans going nuts thinking he'd be there. _Hmmmmm_?"

"Yeah, right. I know; Mok has already had to remind me of that a few times, heh." Monica said with a guilty half smile.

"Oh, and one more thing, tuts': don't be so free with _my _real name either once we reach further into town. I've got a few enemies in the deeper regions of Ohmtown, so once we get there, refer to me by my nickname."

"Sure, no problem um… Whatza'… er, Whatzo…Hmmm…" Monica struggled to remember it.

"The name's What's-Her-Face, tuts'." The other woman said with a smirk.


End file.
